MCcookie333

Your character has just arrived in a swampy, dim town. As they look around, their gaze is met with shacks and cabins. It smells of rotted wood and wet moss. They duck and step into a tattered tent, illuminated by a series of candles suspended in the air. At the back of the tent, an old hag raises her head, “What brings you to this dingy town? She begins, then pauses to study your face—”Ah, it’s you. I’ve been expecting you. Sit,” she gestures at a cushion, “Tell me your story.”

---

Layla shifted uneasily, brushing a stray wisp of unruly blonde hair from her face. Remembering her father's advice to mind her manners no matter where she was, she swallowed her apprehension. 

"I—I didn't know anyone was expecting me," she confessed, her voice light with a hint of a countryside accent. Her wide blue eyes glanced around the tent, lingering warily on the floating candles before she met the old woman's curious gaze. 

Layla gingerly lowered herself onto the cushion, her fine blue skirt sweeping against the ground. "I'm sorry if I've interrupted anything. My name's Layla, and my papa's sent me out to find a better life," she explains, and as if remembering her purpose, she finds her resolve and pushes through her shyness.

"My papa worked on a noble's farm—I'd help out where he'd let me, but he always told me to focus on my education and reading. He wanted me to live a better life than he did, but never wanted to let me go," she smiled fondly, remembering her father's stubborn overprotectiveness of his only child. "When I turned eighteen, he told me it was a shame to bury pearls in the country. He put his trust in me, and I'm determined to make him proud."